


Madame Bonacieux

by gingergenower



Series: the garrison [2]
Category: The Musketeers (2014)
Genre: I Figured Out How Constance Became The Most Respected Person In The Garrison, hallelujah i did it, post 2x10 spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-05
Updated: 2016-08-05
Packaged: 2018-07-29 12:58:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,105
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7685509
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gingergenower/pseuds/gingergenower
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Treville enlists Constance to help while the musketeers are at war.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Madame Bonacieux

One of the realities of the garrison settled in Constance’s stomach a month into the war. With the musketeers gone- d’Artagnan leaving without looking back at her- Treville took back charge of the garrison. She found him fascinating- he rarely visited, but he was so well versed in the garrison he always seemed to know what it needed.

The first Constance knew of his activity came via courier, an early letter dragging her from her bed. It asked her to greet the new cadets, who were due to arrive in the garrison at dawn but an emergency meeting with the king would see Treville late.

Constance dressed, feeling odd in her heavy skirts and flowery bodice, and waited in the courtyard for them.

Three arrived before dawn, another two in the archway as the sun rose. They all had bright eyes and wide smiles, and Constance asked them to seat themselves at the benches. Brujon came out at their excited chatter and seemed grateful the empty corners of the garrison were being filled, asking the boys their enlistment stories. 

Constance watched them, hovering by the archway, under the pretence there might be more arrivals. Going near them felt wrong, but she couldn’t figure out why.

Brujon regaled them with his own experiences in the garrison, mid story when Treville arrived on his horse. Brujon stood to lead the horse away, and Treville beckoned Constance over.

“My name is Treville. I used to be captain, and because Captain Athos is away fighting the war, I have resumed my duties until he returns. However, I am also a minister for the king. I am a busy man. This means that, if you have a problem or need advice or believe that there is a danger that needs investigating, I am not the person to contact.”

Constance frowned, then her eyebrows shot up when Treville gestured she stand forward.

“This is Madame d’Artagnan. She has been familiar and loyal to the garrison, its musketeers and the crown for near two years. I trust you will respect her as you would respect me. She will be writing to me regularly.”

Constance nodded, painting on a smile, but took him aside at the first opportunity.

“Minister, this might seem like a good idea but I have no idea how the garrison runs. I cannot be put in charge of the cadets.”

“You will not be training them in combat,” Treville assured her. “But Constance, you the person I have closest to the musketeers. These boys need to understand what being a musketeer means- the loyalty, the brotherhood, the reverence that separates us from the Red Guard. I only trust you to show them that.”

Constance swallowed, staring at him. He might as well have asked for a miracle.

“I’m a woman, minister.”

Treville tilted his head, as though enquiring into what made her say that. “Constance.”

She watched them. One of them brought out a piece of parchment, rolling torn corners into balls and flicking them at the others, the others scrambling to find the ammunition to fire back.

“If it’s too much…?”

Treville beamed, resting a comforting hand on her forearm. “It won’t be. But write if it is.”

Nodding, she returned to the boys, Treville at her side.

“Today,” he said as they fell quiet, “will be only a taste of what to expect as a musketeer. If it is too much for you, you can leave. There is no shame in that. You will train every day with senior soldiers and veterans of war here in the garrison, but you will not be given any responsibilities for a long time- you have to earn that privilege. This is your moment to prove yourself. Are there any questions?”

All the boys shook their heads enthusiastically, and Treville introduced three men that has gone unnoticed by Constance, who stood aside and watched them.

The cadet’s entire first day was weapons. They talked at length about swords, pistols, daggers, knives and muskets. The men found the cadets their ideal sword length, the most comfortable handles, teaching them various grips and learning their first moves.

“Of course,” he said, “it’s all about what you find best. That will come with experience.”

Brujon grinned. He’d already learned all this, but told Constance he joined in to get to know the other cadets.

They broke up for lunch, Constance enlisting the help of three of them to help serve it. They were eager to help, but Brujon seemed to enjoy not being the newest cadet any more, sitting and letting the rest of them help.

“Madame d’Artagnan,” one of the cadets, Aubert, said. “Are you the Constance that used to be Madame Bonacieux?”

Constance narrowed her eyes at him, Brujon tensing. “Yes.”

“Is it true you were nearly executed because you refused to falsely testify against the queen?”

All the boys stopped talking, turning to look at her. Aubert seemed to realise he’d trodden indelicately. 

“I just heard… my mother works in the kitchens, you see, and when the Spanish spy took control of the palace, I heard you nearly died.”

Constance nodded. “The musketeers came for me.”

“He threatened to execute you?” Brujon didn’t seem to know that story, eyes wide.

“I was at my execution in the square when the musketeers arrived,” Constance said, seating herself at the table. “They cut it a little fine, it has to be said.”

The boys began murmuring amongst themselves, going back to their food.

“That was really brave,” another said, staring at his soup.

Constance smiled at him, and turned back to her own food. Aubert watched her.

“Do you fight?”

“Sometimes,” she said. “Not enough to be a musketeer, but I’ve been in my share of fights.”

Soon enough, they pressed for all her stories. For some of them she skirted around the details, because telling them would be a betrayal, but they listened in rapture as she told them her adventures with the musketeers.

“And you like all the danger?”

“I married a musketeer, didn’t I?” she said, and Brujon put down his tankard.

“And d’Artagnan is the most dangerous of them all. Madame d’Artagnan told me he always gets himself into trouble.”

“It’s _true_ ,” she said at their laughter, and she told the story of how they met.

Constance realised these boys wouldn’t be her brothers. Her brothers, her husband- they’d gone to war, and these boys couldn’t replace them, not as she feared they might try to. The cadets would be something different. They would be her focus, even when the musketeers returned.

Too soon, the boys returned to work.

**Author's Note:**

> okey this is my last musketeers fic I need to call it quits now I've done about 12 in two months


End file.
